


Paint my wisdom red

by bloody_blade0



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, High School, Liam is Louis' brother, Louis in Makeup, M/M, Masturbation, Older Harry, Smut, Voyeurism, Younger Louis, bad boy, harry is liam's friend, harry likes to watch louis, poetry louis, wanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 07:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16259345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloody_blade0/pseuds/bloody_blade0
Summary: Louis loses a bet to Niall.Harry is not turned on by his best friend's little brother.





	Paint my wisdom red

"Fuck." Standing in front of the mirror, he cursed, looking at the face looking back. 

It felt like he should appreciate his sister's amazing work, but the only thing he could think about is googling Wicca: 101 tips on how to curse your best friend. 

Because that's what friends are for, right? To make you laugh, help when you're feeling low, or in his case, ruin his fucking life by remembering a drunken bet that never should've been made. He's  _so_ not drinking, ever again. 

That was maybe a bit of a stretch, but hey, he  _was_ currently looking at a lost expression of a painted self that couldn't show half the pain he was feeling at the moment. 

Damn the Irish and their sadistic ways. 

***

"Come on. Come  _on._ " the irritated Irish pulled him out of the car.

"Ex-fucking-cuse me, Niall!" Louis whisper shouted. "I am sorry for being such a pain. The day is beautiful, the sky is wonderfully grey, the rain is drizzling, everyone is happy and awake, ready to ruin lives, and my fucking face has been painted on with some weird ancient female tools at 7 in the fucking morning. I really have no reason to be unhappy with my life at the moment!"

He might've been overreacting, but honestly, he was  _not._ There was no reason for  _Niall_ to be irritated, when  _he_ was the one who was responsible for the delay, the one who said  _hey let's play a game_ while drunk off his arse, when he  _knew_ Louis would jump off a fucking building thinking he'd fly while drunk. 

There was no shame in Niall's green blooded vessels. He just had to record Louis happily agreeing to something he would never do while sober. He also knew Louis was too proud to say he won't do it because he's always been saying he doesn't care what people think about him, which is, as everyone in the fucking universe knows, a  _lie._

Louis cares. 

Louis cares about the fact that he wore a wrinkled tee to school that day in September two years ago when he overslept and had to rush in order to get to the test that was his first period, Louis cares about the bean he planted for the Science project that died because he didn't take care of it properly even though he did everything Google said, and Louis fucking cares about the fact that he came to school wearing his sister's expensive make up. 

All because the little shit took pride in making his redcoat friend suffer.

"Come on, Lou! No one will notice." Niall rolled his eyes, pulling Louis along the way, greeting everyone on his path, which Louis would appreciate greatly if he didn't.

"Thank you for pointing out I'm invisible to everyone around me."

"And who's fault is that, hm? No one told you to roll your eyes at everything that has a pulse." Niall snapped.

Louis will not be lectured by his greatest enemy and his cruel lies.

"I do  _not_ hate people." the boy replied grumpily, shadowing Niall, trying to be even more invisible than usual. "Why the fuck aren't you taller?"

"Fuck off." the boy laughed as they neared the door to the classroom where Louis hoped to sit unseen in the back for the rest of eternity.

As they entered the room the voices of his classmates overwhelmed him making him want to choke everyone.

Maybe he did dislike people a bit.

Trying not to draw attention he walked faster in front of Niall because the idiot always had someone he just had to talk to, even there was no obvious point as why he did it seeing as no useful information was exchanged in any of the conversations Niall lead with people.

He succeeded in getting to his seat and pulling out a notebook, because he forgot the book, like always, and putting in earbuds, trying to melt his brain with the music even though the music app told him high volume for a long period of time could damage his hearing. It can fuck off to Mars and back for all he cares.

***

The day was dragging slower than usual.

Louis was trying not to gauge his eyes out with a spoon in the cafeteria as he looked at the people around. 

He knew they were all like him, everyone had their troubles, but none of them was wearing a thousand pounds of make up on their faces unwillingly in a room full of sharks that smelled embarrassment quicker than blood.

He will not allow anyone to make fun of him.

It's not that he disliked make up, on any gender, it's that he disliked it on  _his_ face.

Oh the stories of the bad boy Tomlinson that finally bowed to the gay stereotype that would circle around if anyone saw him.

He couldn't wait to punch someone in the face. Red was the colour he was rather fond of. 

The boy smiled at his sandwich sadistically, mouthing the lyrics of a song he heard on the radio that morning.

"Lou!" 

No.

"Hey!"

Fuck no.

A chair squeaked on the floor and a soft thump marking the arrival of a certain someone's body too close to Louis.

That's his fucking luck. 

"Hi Harry." he said passively, mentally spitting at the universe.

"What's up?" the boy asked, probably trying to see Louis' face which Louis hid behind his ex's oversized hoodie.

"Nothing."

If you ignore it it will go away.

"Did you come with Niall to school?" 

Or maybe not.

"Yes."

Keep it simple enough to make him leave.

"Wanna ride home? Liam has a meeting with someone from the ministry of sports or something, he told me to tell you he won't make it."

"I don't mind walking." 

"Nonsense! I was thinking about waiting for him at yours anyway, we have to do a project for our combined class." 

Louis could hear the smile in his brother's best friend's voice and it made him feel bad for being so rude and hiding his face but fuck him if he's going to give Harry and Liam more material to make fun of him.

"If you want to."

 _If you want to._ What the fuck, Louis, as if he wants to do it. He's just being nice. You wouldn't know anything about that, though. 

His inner voice sounded terribly like his ex and Louis didn't like it one bit. Maybe that's why he always had inner battles, he just didn't want his ex to win an argument, not even the one in his head.

"Of course!" Harry chirped.

"You're very quiet today, Lou?" the boy added after a few seconds. "Are you ill?"

Louis Tomlinson has a problem, you see. It's the reflex of sending everyone to seven hells whenever he's annoyed. And that's 87% of the time. 

An issue has developed when someone with whom he just can't be rude needs to be moved from his presence for the sake of his mental health. 

"Yeah, I think I'm coming up with something. You should move away from the probable infectious source, though." 

"Oh!" he could hear the chair squeaking again and he hoped Harry took that statement seriously and is running away from him, even though that would be funny because how much of a germaphobe you have to be to react like that? 

"Do you need me to take you home?" Harry spoke softly, suddenly appearing on the chair next to Louis. 

Louis flinched but didn't raise his head higher than needed. It felt like he was undercover. It felt stupid.

"Nah, I've got two periods left, think I'll handle it. Thanks though." he got up to leave because Harry's body warmth and smell were overpowering his sleep deprived senses so it was better if he moved the fuck away before he did something he'd regret. Like snuggling into the older boy's neck, sniffing him or peeing on his leg to mark territory. You never know, Louis was always unpredictable.

"Wait!" Harry got up, grabbing him by his wrist and pulling back.

It felt really weird looking directly into Harry's chest, with Harry's skin on Louis' skin, and... Louis should probably talk to people more often. If only they weren't all stupid and annoying.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Louis could  _hear_ Harry biting his lip because that's what he does when he's worried and Louis just can't bare the thought the boy was kind and worried about him and all he wanted was to leave his presence and not return until the promised apocalypse is over. It felt like zombies would have to lick off the concrete Lottie put on him.

"Ye-"

"Maybe if you went to the nurse's office to check if you have a fever because if you do have it, you won't be able to concentrate properly and the professors won't know why and they'll give you shit f-"

Harry was rambling and Louis just wanted him to stop.

"Harry!" Louis stopped the rambling mess by putting a hand over the boy's mouth. He got the desired effect but the uncomfortable silence he didn't know what to do with since he was admiring the feeling of the direct contact with someone's  _face._ How much personal can it get than to touch someone's face? You're invading their private space, their... face dammit. Louis knew he would be pissed if someone did it to him without a warning so he quickly removed his hand, not wanting to anger Harry.

"Sorry." he mumbled, looking at the ground, "Is just... you were rambling. And. I'm fine."

He could hear the soft rumble of Harry's chest as he chuckled. 

"I don't mind. Though, are you sure? That you're okay? I can't have you fainting in the hallway." 

Louis really needed a smoke. He might faint because of nicotine deprivation and that would be a crime towards humanity. 

He also might faint because Harry reached out to put his hand on Louis' forehead and there was a direct contact with another human going on which Louis hasn't experienced this way for a long time, basically since he was a kid.

He really didn't want to think how all of this looked to everyone around them, with Louis being pressed into Harry's chest and Harry touching his face and... 

"You don't seem to have a fever." Harry mused, hand still on Louis' face and all of this made him anxious and self aware so he had to put a stop to it so he mumbled 'yeah, yeah, okay, i know. bye.' and rushed towards the exit, with Zayn on speed dial and a pack of cigarettes in hand.

**

"You're the weirdest fucking person on this fucking planet." the raven haired boy mumbled as they stood leaned on the wall just outside the school grounds.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Alan Turing was autistic."

"Thanks." Louis snapped, really not in the mood for Zayn's smartarseness.

"No but really. Why does it freak you out? It's not like you're an untouched virgin?"

"It's not about that. I don't know." Louis really doesn't know.

"It's just that.. whenever someone touches someone, they do it with an intention?"

"Oh, babe, they really don't." Zayn sighed.

"People take care of those who they care about. It's just how it is. And touching is like... an instinct."

"I don't like it. There is no point to it." Louis took a drag from his cigarette in order to calm his mind, which was kind of working but not really.

"The point is to get closer to someone, to calm them, for them to know they're not alone, that someone cares about them." Zayn said patiently.

"But it didn't calm me. It just made me feel worse."

"Yeah, I know." Zayn stood in front of him and leaned his forehead to Louis'. 

It was a thing they did, a thing that did calm Louis. Why, he didn't know. But the closeness of Zayn's body, the warmth and familiarity of the boy's scent, wood and cigarettes, it made him focus. 

"It's because it was sudden, I guess. But you know Harry, Lou. He wouldn't harm you."

He knew Harry, yes. Harry, Liam's friend. Harry who was polite to everyone. Harry who talks to his own species without feeling the urge to tell them how stupid it is to talk about the weather since it's obvious it's a rainy day to everyone on the fucking island. Harry, who pets stray cats and eats green. Harry who smells of mint and vanilla. Harry who reaches out to touch to comfort someone. 

"I... I wasn't afraid of him." 

"I would be surprised if you were, you can defend yourself even if he did do something bad. Which he won't do, you know that."

Yeah, Louis knew that.

"Yeah, I know that."

"Are you okay, babe?" Zayn looked at him and smiled. It was a weird thing, mostly Louis knew people smiled at each other to create a feeling of security. It could be a predator's sweet approach, it could be genuine kindness, but mostly Louis never saw the point of doing it himself. And people didn't do it to him. Guess he just had one of those faces no one would smile at. Except Zayn.

"Yeah." he sighed. Because he was okay. He just wanted for the day to end and to kill Niall.

 

 ***

The ride home was weird. Louis could sense the weirdness, even though he was sometimes called weird by people, especially the people who don't know him, people who told him he doesn't know he's making others uncomfortable with his indifferent face and behavior. He knew one of the two occupants of Harry's big black Audi was uncomfortable and chose to turn up the music in order to loosen the tension, but he couldn't remember who was the one who turned up Nothing But Thieves when they came up on the radio. He really liked their music, though.

There was a heaviness behind his eyes that wasn't caused only by the heavy coat of make up he was wearing. He was tired, he had homework he knew he wouldn't be doing and wanted to wank.

So, as soon as they came to the Tomlinson residence he bolted, with as much hurry in his step as he could muster, which couldn't be different from the usual unbothered pace he practiced, and no one could tell he was actually tense if they didn't know him.

He felt like the make up on his face was dusting and leaving a trail behind him like breadcrumbs. He couldn't care less for Harry who was coming up behind him, since he's has been around long enough to know his way around the house. What Louis needed was relief.

When he came up to his room he face planted on the bed not wanting to move for a century. He wasn't sure how long he was lying like that, all he knew was that after awhile he rolled on his back and started rubbing himself over the rough material of his jeans. Why?

He just felt like it.

Not many would assume, but Louis was somewhat a dirty person. 

He really enjoyed thinking about himself in compromising positions with older guys, with an experienced hand on his dick, lustful eyes watching him as he jerked himself off or shoved a vibrator up his arse.

He knew subconsciously that it was the result that the make up he was wearing, besides making him uncomfortable and anxious beyond words, also made him feel pretty. And he wanted to be pretty for someone while he had a dick in him.

Slowly taking his jeans off, reaching out for the lube and the vibrator he got from his ex boyfriend, the only good thing the arsehole left behind, he pumped his dick slowly, teasing himself, because he liked it that way. Loved it when someone made him writhe and beg for release.

With no one better around, he'd have to do it himself. Who knows him better than himself, after all?

It was mostly always three fingers to stretch himself, even though he's been stretched from last night, he still liked to move his fingers inside him until there was a burning desire for something bigger. Shoving in the vibrator, setting it on medium, the feeling of pure animalistic bliss overwhelmed him, he wanted to stay like this forever, he wanted it to end right now. The temperature around him must've risen, because he was sweating, and positively making some noise, because the urge inside him had him almost screaming, and the feeling of a vibrator inside him and a his hand pumping his dick had him coming in seconds.

He had to wait for a few seconds for his breathing to calm, without taking out the vibrator he just laid on the bed, feeling dirty. And pretty.

Eyes half lidded he looked around the room and tensed as he took in the figure besides the door he didn't shut when he barged in.

Harry's tall frame stood still, his chest moving rapidly, the curve of his upper lip covered with sweat, his right hand on his groin. 

**Author's Note:**

> i am not familiar with the wicca practice and do not know if they practice sacrificial rituals and/or murder.
> 
> err..


End file.
